The little fiddle commonly known as a 'kit' that dancing-masters
used to carry in their capacious tail coat pockets was much more
in evidence in the middle of last century than it is now. Caddy
Jellyby (_B.H._), after her marriage to a dancing-master,
found a knowledge of the piano and the kit essential, and so
she used to practise them assiduously. When Sampson Brass
hears Kit's name for the first time he says to Swiveller:

'Strange name--name of a dancing-master's fiddle,
eh, Mr. Richard?'

We must not forget the story of a fine young Irish gentleman,
as told by the one-eyed bagman to Mr. Pickwick and his friends,
who,

being asked if he could play the fiddle, replied he
had no doubt he could, but he couldn't exactly say
for certain, because he had never tried.


_Violoncello_

Mr. Morfin (_D. & S._), 'a cheerful-looking, hazel-eyed elderly
bachelor,' was

a great musical amateur--in his way--after business,
and had a paternal affection for his violoncello, which
was once in every week transported from Islington,
his place of abode, to a certain club-room hard by
the Bank, where quartets of the most tormenting and